The blindfold is a slice of darkness
that oppresses,
a black beam of light striking shadows,
the intimate moaning of the mind.
It penetrates like an insane needle:
the blindfold.
In the hard seasons of anger
and fear
it wounds and bewilders.
Images get bigger.
Sounds are bells
tolling and tolling.
The blindfold
is a wall covered with mirrors and moss,
a room where no-one lives,
a stairway to the unknown.
The blindfold
fills the air with phantoms
and helps blast oopen the way
to the hurricane corridors
of meditation and panic.